


Lovely To Love You

by woakiees



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, some angst featuring your favorite italian stringbean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 16:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woakiees/pseuds/woakiees





	Lovely To Love You

An endless shroud of grey, melancholy clouds covered Manhattan like a thick blanket. You felt that it was rather fitting for the situation you found yourself in as you sat alone in a small cafe on the Upper West Side, your eyes transfixed upon your untouched cup of tea. Earl Grey. You scoffed gently. Grey was unquestionably a word that could be used to describe your state of being as you waited for your husband to show. 

You cringed, the movement subtle yet still noticeable. It suddenly dawned on you that he would only hold that title for an hour longer, before ultimately, and probably permanently, becoming your  _ ex _ -husband. 

You tested the word on your tongue, and grimaced at the sound of it. It didn’t feel right falling from your lips, and it certainly wasn’t a word that you ever would have thought you would use when referring to Sonny. 

Darling, honey, babe,  _ husband _ . Those were all words that felt right — would always feel right, though they no longer held any weight. Your marriage was ending, within the hour, and those words would mean nothing once you signed your name on the dotted line. 

It was still crazy to you how this had all come about. Sonny had been your endgame from the moment you first met, until suddenly, he wasn’t. 

He had become married to his work, and you were just his side piece. He was gone when you awoke each morning and he more often than not would only return once you were asleep. Home cooked meals were abandoned and replaced by takeout down at the station. You listened to his voicemail more than his actual voice. 

You knew from the start that Sonny’s job was beyond demanding, and you would never hold him back from it — would never ask him to choose you over his work, which is exactly what prompted you to ask for a divorce. His job was more important, that much had become clear to you in the more recent months. And you weren’t really okay with it, but you had to be. His choice was clear. 

Three months had passed since the night you had asked him for a separation. He had remained mostly calm; a lot calmer than you had hoped he would be. You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed in his reaction, or rather, lack thereof. You wanted him to  _ fight _ for you. You wanted him to get down on his knees and tell you that he loved you, that he wanted you to stay, and that he would take a step back and  _ be there _ for you — with you again. 

Instead, you were only met with a clenched jaw, a pale face, and a quiet mutter of a single question.

“Why?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. You had simply shrugged and he had simply nodded. 

Up until a week prior, when the reality that you were soon to be divorced fully hit him and he decided to stay with his sister Bella, he had slept on the couch most nights while you stayed in your once shared bed. And on the nights where he didn’t come home, you could only hope that he was passed out at the station and not between someone else’s sheets. 

Everytime that thought crept its way into your mind, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for thinking it — for thinking that Sonny would be with another woman. You knew him better than that. You knew he would never, not while you still shared his last name, but the anxiety bubbling in your chest always convinced you of another tale, and you _ hated _ that part of yourself. 

You hated yourself for letting Sonny go. For not giving him a reason as to  _ why _ you were letting him go. You hated yourself for caring when he, so painfully obvious, did not. 

But, unbeknownst to you, Sonny did care, though he would admit that he tried his damn hardest to hide it. On the night that you asked for the divorce, he had cried and cried and cried into the couch cushion until he found himself dizzy and out of breath. He was sure that he had cried more in the last three months than he ever had, but not in front of you. 

No, never in front of you. 

Because you wanted a divorce, and Sonny was always going to do what you wanted; whatever would make you happy, no matter what it meant for himself, and it had become obvious to him that you were far from happy. 

He knew that it was truly his fault, and that your sudden desire for a separation didn’t manifest out of nowhere. He knew he was working longer hours, and he knew that he wasn’t always in the best of moods when he finally did make it home. He had never meant to make you feel as if he had fallen out of love with you, and while you never voiced that that’s how you felt, he knew. He knew that he made you feel unloved, unworthy — something he vowed to never do on the day you both said “I do”. He knew he had been a terrible husband to you in the last year, and while it was no excuse, he had a reason, though he would never tell you.

How could he tell you that he had spent the better part of a year  _ hunting _ the leader of a sex trafficking ring that targeted girls who all looked  _ exactly _ like you? That it was mostly off the clock, because Liv had warned him about getting too close? He wasn’t going to tell you that he had a patrol car stationed outside of your apartment building  _ and _ your work, and that he would continue to have them posted until he caught the  _ son of a bitch _ , because it would  _ scare _ you. 

He wouldn’t tell you, because you would worry. And you would not only worry about your own safety, but his as well. In his eyes, it was unneeded stress that he wasn’t willing to add to your life. 

Sonny found comfort in knowing that he could continue to keep you safe while also ensuring your happiness, and that was the only reason that he ever agreed to a divorce. 

Of course, you were even less happy now that you were losing the man that you loved, but he didn’t need to know that. You wanted him to think that he was doing you a favor, but you also knew that you probably wouldn’t make it through signing the papers without at least a tear or two escaping. 

You were proud of yourself for staying rather emotionless in his presence, though you weren’t sure if it was anything to be proud of. Your disposition towards him had been cold in the last few months, and that was only because you didn’t want to second guess your decision. Still, you knew he didn’t really deserve it. You still loved him, afterall, and you were sure that there was still a piece of him that loved you, even if you were no longer his first choice, and even though he had made you feel completely unloved if you were being completely honest. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the scraping of a chair against the wooden floors of the cafe. You glanced up, only to be met with Sonny’s baby blue eyes that had entranced you from day one. You swallowed the lump in your throat and willed yourself to look away. Instead, you decided to focus on the yellow folder sitting in the middle of the table — the folder that contained the papers that would make all of this official. 

Sonny sat without a word, though his eyes never left your form. You could feel his gaze burning holes into your skin, but you didn’t mind, because you didn’t know if he would ever look at you like that again, with such an intensity and such a raging passion burning behind his blue irises.

There was no way for him to deny his love for you, with a stare like that. The thought brought more comfort than you thought it would. But really, his love for you was written all over his face and not just in his eyes, if you would only look, but you were scared that you would change your mind if you did. His job was first. You were second. 

You just had to keep reminding yourself of that until your name was signed in ink — until your name returned to that of your maiden, and you were no longer Mrs. Carisi. 

“Hi,” he mumbled, his voice lacking it’s usual enthusiasm. 

You decided to chance stealing another glance, but then found that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, because after this, you weren’t sure if you would ever see him again. The thought killed you inside, and you did your best to try and hide it, though you apparently did a terrible job at doing so as Sonny’s eyebrows furrowed and his jaw hardened at the completely torn expression that now settled upon your face. 

You shook your head gently and heaved a sigh, muttering his greeting back to him. 

The two of you sat completely still for what felt like hours, when in reality it was less than five minutes. Your eyes never left his and his never left yours, and though neither of you spoke, you knew Sonny well enough to know what each flicker of emotion that crossed his face meant. 

And right now, with his softened eyes and solemn expression, you knew what was running through his mind. 

"_Do we really have to do this_ ?”

You found yourself nodding in response to his unspoken question, and his face fell even further, effectively shattering what little was left of your heart. 

Silence ensued for another two minutes and forty seven seconds. You counted, because you needed something to distract you. Anything to keep you from crossing the table and throwing yourself back into his arms. He was the one to break the quiet, and the eye contact, and you were grateful. 

“Let’s just get this over with.”

His voice cracked with the last word. He tried to cover it up with a cough, but you caught it. You felt your hardened exterior crack. 

Sonny fumbled with the envelope, struggling to pull the papers out because his hands were shaking and  _ God _ , he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to divorce you but he had to, because it’s what you wanted and he would exhaust all efforts to give you what you wanted, even if that meant killing a part of himself in the process. You wanted this, you- 

You were crying now, and Sonny didn’t notice until a strangled hiccup left your quivering lips. He paled, eyes wide as he watched you cry for the first time in this whole ordeal. 

“Doll…”

“Don’t.”

“Please…”

“No.”

“We don’t have to do this.”

“We do.”

Sonny felt the anger begin to rise in his chest, but it wasn’t directed at you. Could never be directed at you. He was angry with himself, because it seemed as if he couldn’t make you happy no matter what he did. You were crying now, and you would cry if you had to spend another night in your once shared bed with his last name, but without  _ him _ . 

And you, you were angry for ruining your strong facade by crying in front of him, even though you knew from the beginning that it wouldn’t last. You were angry because now, when the reality of it all was staring him directly in the face, is when he decided to start showing signs of remorse. 

And it was anger that fueled your next action. 

You reached into your purse, digging around until you felt the smooth, cool plastic of a pen in your hand. You grasped it tightly, and without so much as a second thought, you yanked the papers from Sonny’s hand and signed your name in permanent ink. 

“I may be the one asking for a divorce,” you cried, shaking your head as you placed the papers back on top of the table, slamming them as you found his gaze once again. “But you left me long ago.”

“Doll, I-”

“Don’t. Just shut up for once in your life and sign the goddamn papers Dominick.” 

If Sonny was taken aback by your sudden outburst, he didn’t show it. He simply stared back at you, seeming to search your eyes for something that would contradict your words. He waited and waited, hoping for a flash of regret or something he could use to change your mind. But when he found nothing other than your puffy red eyes that were set in a harsh, cold glare, he nodded once and took the pen in his own hand. In one quick, swift motion, his name was signed right alongside of yours. 

You stood before he could say anything else, deciding that you would leave the papers in his possession so that he would have to be the one to deliver them to the attorney. This was his fault, anyhow. He only watched with his arms folded across his chest, though it didn’t come off defensive. 

Reaching to snatch your purse from the seat beside you, a glittering shimmer on your left hand caught your attention. 

Your wedding ring sat perfectly polished on your ring finger, where it had been every single day for the last five years. You could only stare at it, your hand still hanging in midair as you thought about the massive amount of significance behind a little piece of jewelry.

And as you thought about it, it seemed to burn your skin, because you didn’t  _ deserve _ to wear it anymore. But, more than you didn’t deserve wearing it, Sonny didn’t deserve to  _ have _ you wear it. 

You quickly pulled the ring from your finger, staring at it for a moment longer before presenting it to Sonny. He did the same as you; he stared. 

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s yours,” you said, your voice empty and void of all emotion. “You paid for it.”

“I may have paid for it, but it’s always going to be yours.”

“What part of ‘I don’t want it’ don’t you understand? Take it.”

He finally averted his gaze from the ring only to meet your eyes. His narrowed slightly as he took in the hollow expression behind your own. Though, empty as your eyes were, he could see a glimmer of something else behind their vacant stare. 

You were lying. He knew you were. Sonny knew you better than he knew himself, and he was absolutely positive that you didn’t mean the words that flew from your mouth. But, he decided that he would play into your little game for the time being. 

He would wait until you admitted it on your own. He was a patient man, at times, and for this, he would wait forever. 

He narrowed his eyes further, and had to fight to keep his glare from turning into a smirk. 

“Make me.”

You blinked once, twice. A scoff left your lips, a quick “you’ve got to be kidding me” to follow. 

Walking across to the other side of the table, you stopped in front of him, peering down at him for a few agonizingly long seconds before grabbing his wrist. He kept his arms folded as you did so, letting you control his movements. You flipped his palm face up, and with one final look, you practically slammed the ring into his waiting hand. 

Sonny took the opportunity to close his fingers around your own hand, his eyes locking on yours with a stare so intense, you froze. 

You knew that he could tell you were lying, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of backing down. You wouldn’t be the one to break any further. 

With your hand still in his, you spoke your final words before pulling away. 

“It was lovely to love you, Mr. Carisi.”

And with that, you were gone. You wanted to put as much distance as you possibly could between yourself and Sonny before your anger subsided any further, because you knew that you would end up running back to him with apologies and declarations of love spewing from your lips, and that simply wouldn’t do. 

You hailed a cab, gave the driver your address, and never once looked back towards the cafe, knowing that he would still be sitting by the window. 

And he was, watching you, making sure you got into the cab safely. He didn’t look away until you were gone, and when he did, he immediately focused on the documents still sitting on the table. He scoffed as he stared at them — as he stared at the two signatures signed in black ink, side by side. 

He quickly stowed your ring in the pocket of his jeans before grabbing the damned papers between both hands. And in one solid, gratifying motion, he tore them straight down the middle. And he tore them again. And again. And again, until the only thing left resembled confetti. 

Sonny slumped back into his chair, a sarcastic and bitter smile on his face as he thought about what he had just done. It didn’t matter, really, because he decided right then and there that he would get you back. As soon as he found the complete and utter scumbags managing the trafficking ring, after making sure that they were off the streets and never able to get anywhere near you, he would do everything within his power to win you back.

You were stubborn. He knew it was going to be tough — that he would have to work hard in order for you to forgive him, but he would go through hell and back for you, over and over again. There was a point where you believed it, too, and he would do whatever it took to prove it to you once again. 

A sigh left his lips and he picked up a small bit of shredded paper between the tips of his fingers before dropping it back on the table. He repeated the action several times, lost in his own thoughts of you and you and  _ you _ . 

Another sigh. 

“And I love you, Mrs. Carisi.

“I promise, I do.”


End file.
